Chuck Taylor waved at a hawk strafing the wheat field in front of him. “There is beauty everywhere. I just want to express what I am feeling.”

He pushed up his feed company cap and began to sing louder than his farm tractor engine. Chuck’s voice boomed over that Colorado field, keeping time to the rhythm of his motor. The tractor turned into the setting sun, revealing a big man, close to three hundred pounds, haloed in the cab. Chuck Taylor was wondering why that sun wasn’t a spotlight.

TURNS OUT, IT WAS.